


Every Path Leads Back to You

by themakersruin (TKHikaru13)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: EmetWoL Week (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKHikaru13/pseuds/themakersruin
Summary: Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling so it goes, some things were meant to be.orA collection of ficlets for EmetWoL week.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 3





	Every Path Leads Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> Day One - Light and Dark
> 
> Before arriving in Rak'tika, the Warrior of Darkness and Emet-Selch come to an agreement.

In all honesty, it was amazing the place had lasted for so long. A church, just beyond the reaches of the Ostall Imperative. Or at least...what remained of it. Something had torn a massive hole in the wall, be it by a Sin Eater or some other sort of monstrosity, Hen wasn’t sure.

What she was sure of, stepping over worn stones, was that once nature realized it had an opening, it was quick to seize the opportunity to advance. Moss and other forms of greenery grew, wild flowers blooming upon the pews in the place of church goers, whereas mushrooms nestled beneath the rotted wood.

Just beyond the altar, stood a massive, stained glass window. Hen was surprised to see it intact, even more so after realizing what it displayed. A warrior in noble armor, slaying a dark robed being with a glowing sword. She paused beneath it, staring up at the window.

With the sky returned to Lakeland, proper sunlight lit the glass and allowed a spectrum of color to leave bright reflections on the floor. She stared down at her hands, watching the light’s refraction dye her in different shades and wished she were a better artist so she could capture the image as she saw it.

“I didn’t take you for a fan of architecture.”

Hen whirled, hand at her rapier and her foci spinning to life. Leaning on a beam that seemed poised to fall at any moment, was Emet-Selch. He looked bored, as he often did, yet there was a light in his eyes. Light of mirth or malice, she wasn’t sure.

“What? Did you think I was some hobby-less monster?” she couldn’t help but laugh, turning to face him. Emet-Selch lifted from the beam to step closer, an ilm or two shy of the circle of multicolored light.

“You’ll forgive me for not knowing much of you, seeing as you’ve a track record for slaying us and ours.” The barb was sharp, intended to hurt and Hen hated to admit that it did. She took a step back, retreating further into the light.

“Well, now you’ve got ample time to learn.” she replied, folding her arms before her. Emet-Selch turned his gaze upward, seemingly ignoring her in favor of the window. Something like familiarity played across his face, as if he was trying to remember where he’d seen the image before. Hen let her arms fall to her sides. “I’m not good at drawing, so I like looking at what others can create.” she spoke up after a moment.

“...always did appreciate the others’ works.” Emet-Selch murmured and Hen got the distinct feeling she was listening to something she wasn’t meant to hear. His gaze flickered towards her, finally tilting his head down to look at her. “You’ve a question don’t you?”

“To be perfectly honest, I’ve many a question only an Ascian could answer.” Hen admitted. A slow smile crawled up Emet-Selch’s lips, eyebrows crooking upward.

“Really? Color me surprised. And here I thought you were perfectly content to let my offering of peace wither and die.” He took another step forward, finger lifting up. “It will, however, cost you.”

Hen huffed. Of course there would be a price. Still she was undeterred.

“What are the terms?” she asked. Emet-Selch tucked his hand underneath his chin, as if in deep thought.

“You seek knowledge of the Ascians, I seek knowledge of Hydaelyn’s chosen. For every question you have, you must answer one of my own. Does that sound fair?”

An answer for an answer. Some part of Hen worried it would be much more gruesome, but she pushed that thought down. Typecasting the Ascian would do her no good if she intended to learn.

“I believe so.” she replied, nodding. “Why the name Ascian?”

“An old word for ‘without shadow’. When we first began taking hosts, we noticed the vessels we inhabited lost theirs. Bereft of a name to call ourselves, we took on the appellation.” Emet-Selch answered. “Why are you named after poultry, and on a related note, why the odd surname?”

Hen sighed. “It was the only name I remember my Pa calling me. I’m not sure if it’s short for something else, all I know is that I’ve been Hen for as long as I can remember. When I enlisted in the Immortal Flames, the person helping me with my paperwork told me I needed a surname. I didn’t know my original one and needed something else. There was a painting of Dalamud’s fall in the room and I thought it would be a bit of gallows humor to name myself after it. So Meteor.”

Emet-Selch blinked at her and covered his mouth, an odd snort leaving him as if he’d muffled a laugh. Hen tilted her head, mouth already open to ask if he was okay, but he seemingly recovered as if it had never happened. A single eyebrow rose, favoring her with one of his usual looks that bordered on disdain and boredom.

“I believe...that is enough for now.” Something seemed stilted in his speech, something Hen couldn’t put her finger on. “Perhaps we can pester one another on a different occasion.” He turned to leave, retreating into the shadows of the ruin.

“Wait!” Hen took a step forward, just barely within the circle of light left by the window. Emet-Selch turned back, something bordering on genuine curiosity on his face.

“What?” he asked. Hen stuck a hand out towards him.

“Thank you. For answering my questions.” There was a not quite smile on his face as he turned to face her.

“Why the hand?” he asked after a moment.

“We came to an agreement,” Hen shrugged. “Do they not shake hands after agreements in Garlemald?” There was a wry smile on her face, one Emet-Selch mirrored as he took her hand, one standing in shadow, and the other beneath refracted light.

“After my meddling, they most certainly do my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I upload it before it turns 12 am my time, I'm still on time for Day One. Also went with both prompts, and will be doing so for these fics. For this one, the relation to the prompt is a bit abstract. The theme gave me the mental image of Hen and Emet talking while she stood in the light of a stained glass window while he stood in the shadows.
> 
> Following chapters should be more straightforward with the theme, but the keyword is 'should'.


End file.
